


the turning of the years

by mynameis_not_cathofaragon



Series: home at last (you and i) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Dean Winchester-centric, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everyone Is Alive, FWF|Finale What Finale, Family Fluff, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, and all that it entails, as in, at the end, kind of 5+1, let's go full hp fandom and make that a tag, the lesbian nuns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameis_not_cathofaragon/pseuds/mynameis_not_cathofaragon
Summary: Some of Dean's birthdays through the years
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: home at last (you and i) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124942
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	the turning of the years

**Author's Note:**

> don't you love how dean winchester is out there celebrating his 42th birthday, living his best life with his husband cas, their dog miracle and an assortment of other family members and not at all dead because that would be crappy writing? :) yeah, me too.  
> anyway, this technically is part of the universe of my other destiel fic (take my hand (guide me home)), which is why kevin and charlie are mentioned as being alive; it's not really a sequel though, you should be able to understand everything without reading it.  
> also, i apologise for any mistakes, i usually edit my stuff more throughly, but i wrote this today and wanted to post it while it still is dean's birthday (where i live at least it's late but still 24th). okay, that's it, hope you like it!

Dean’s fourth birthday is a quiet affair, rather unremarkable as far as a toddler’s birthday goes; later, as an adult he’d barely remember it, just another fuzzy memory of a time he can’t bear to dwell on. 

There's cake, store-bought but still good, and laughter, they watch a movie together, and his parents give him some presents; as far as he’s concerned, though, the best gift will come a few months later, when his brother is born. 

He goes to sleep that night with a feeling of happiness, plain and true, as children are prone to, ignorant of his John and Mary’s arguing and the fact that it would be his last happy birthday for a while. 

* * *

In his fifth birthday, Dean is confused. 

It's been a few months since his mom’s death, since the fire; dad, Sammy and him have been staying in motels all this time. He knows something bad happened, he knows mom won’t come for them, but he’s a child, he’s understanding of the situation is limited. 

Still, he hopes his birthday will be at least similar to last year, with cake and presents and laughter, he even has Sammy now! Instead, dad doesn’t tell him happy birthday until the afternoon, giving him some candy but nothing else. Dean is sad, but he thinks dad looks sad, too, has been so since the fire, so it’s fine. Maybe next year will be different. 

* * *

By the time Dean turns thirteen, he understands. He knows about monsters, about mom’s death, dad’s grief; he knows he has to be strong and be there for Sammy, protect him, keep things between him and dad peaceful. 

Birthdays aren’t important anymore, not his, at least. They've moved around more times than he cares to count, rarely enough to make friends or other meaningful bonds, so he never tells anyone of his birthday, if they ask, he rattles some random date months away, when he knows they will have moved away already. Sam tells him happy birthday every time, anyway, and dad does too most of them. 

The morning of January, 24th that year Sammy hugs him briefly before school, and wishes him a nice day. During school, everything is the same, none of his classmates know he’s turning thirteen (he’d told them it had been one week before they arrived there). Back at the motel, dad is gone; he comes back late at night, with some cake, and that’s that. 

* * *

When his seventeenth birthday comes and passes, Dean wishes it had been like the other ones, boring, unremarkable, just his everyday life with perhaps some cake. 

Dad tells him happy birthday as soon as he wakes up, and gives him a gift: a hunt, his first solo hunt. You’re old enough, he tells him, it is time you learn to hunt by yourself. Naturally, Dean’s ecstatic to be trusted so, but his excitement soon dies down. 

Nuns. The ghosts are two nuns, dead for loving each other, troubled spirits who can’t find their peace. As soon as he finds out, Dean wants to puke. _He knows_ , it’s his first –panicked- thought. Dad found out, somehow, and it isn’t a gift, the hunt, it is a warning, a glimpse of what could happen. 

He manages to finish the job, set the women free; he doesn’t believe in heaven, but in the back of his mind, he hopes they find some sort of peace. Tears burn in his eyes, fighting to run free, as he sees the fire burning the bones blazing in the grave. 

He thought he’d been so careful, never letting his eyes stray, barely looking at men and almost staring at women. He tries to remember what could have given him away, but the only time he’d let himself kiss a boy was months ago, dad had been gone since the day before, and he’d come back the day after, there’s no way he could have seen. 

Is it simply himself then? Is it something he says, how he says it? Do his eyes betray him? Sammy couldn’t have told him, not only does he not know, but he wouldn’t do it. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter, does it? Somehow, dad knows. 

When he gets back to the motel, dad and Sam haven’t come back yet, so he gets in the shower. He stays as long as he can, scrubbing the filth away, his breathing ragged and hitched hidden with the sound of the water. 

By the time he gets out, his skin is red and Sammy and dad are back. He answers a couple of questions about the hunt, trying to put on a cheerful façade so that his brother doesn’t notice something’s wrong while simultaneously trying to avoid meeting his father’s eyes. He apparently can’t fool dad, though, as he clasps a hand over his shoulder, just the slightest bit painful, squeezing it as he nods. It's not approval on his face, not the proud kind a father should show, but a grave one, the type that reveals the hunt was very much purposeful. 

If there was any doubt before, Dean knows then what he must do in regards of himself. 

* * *

Sammy’s gone for his twenty-third birthday, off to Stanford, out of the life. Dean is happy that his brother is doing something he chose, but it hurts. It was only them against the world, but now it is just him. Dad is in a hunt by himself, and he’d finished his last job two days ago, so Dean eats some pie, goes to a bar, and goes home with a hot redhead, who’s gone by the time he wakes up the next day. 

* * *

It's his last year on Earth. Honestly, Dean is lowkey surprised he made it to twenty-nine, and while the prospect of Hell isn’t particularly enticing, at least he knows Sammy will be alright. 

They don’t make a big deal out of it, not like the could if they wanted to anyway, but similar to Christmas, it’s the best he could have asked for. There's pie instead of cake, and beer, and for a few hours they ignore Dean’s looming fate. 

* * *

It’s his first “normal” birthday in over twenty years, his thirty-second. 

He wakes up next to Lisa, who greets him with a smile and a kiss. They have breakfast, Ben’s laugher rather contagious, and then he drops him at school before going to work, Lisa gone to the studio as well. At work, he receives congratulations and claps on the back. 

He makes dinner that night, and then they eat the cake that Lisa made; again, the good mood hangs over them nicely. Ben made him a hand-drawn card –the kid’s got some talent- and Lisa gives him a new pair of boots. 

He goes to sleep that night feeling content. It's not the same kind of happiness he’d felt as a kid, he’s too far gone for it, life’s too complicated for such a simple emotion. There's a constant cloud over him, the emptiness left by those he cannot allow himself to remember, which both him and Lisa choose to ignore and Ben thankfully doesn’t notice, and he can’t let his guard down even if he tries, so it isn’t peacefulness what he feels, and perfect happiness was never an option for him either, but it’s contentment, and for now that’s more than he would have even asked for. 

* * *

He doesn’t notice the day his thirty-third birthday comes around, every day looks the same in Purgatory, he doesn’t know how long he’s been there. Time is of little importance, he’s rather preoccupied with not letting himself be killed by monsters while simultaneously trying to find Cas, so he doesn’t even spare a thought to his birthday. 

* * *

The morning of his forty-second birthday, Dean wakes up slowly. Despite being January, he feels perfectly warm, both because of blankets and the arms wrapped around him. 

Without opening his eyes, he snuggles closer into Castiel’s chest, tightening his own arms around him, almost involuntarily letting out a satisfied sigh. Under him, Cas chuckles silently, the vibrations a comforting sound. 

“Hello, Dean,” he says after a moment, and Dean can hear the smile in his low, still kinda sleepy voice. 

He lifts his head, finally opening his eyes to look at Cas, a lazy smile spreading his lips. “Hiya, Cas.” 

Castiel’s own smile widens as he leans down to peck Dean briefly. “Happy birthday.” 

The sentence startles Dean’s half-asleep mind, as he hadn’t realised it was, in fact, his birthday; furthermore, it is his first birthday spent in peace. Ok, it may be early to dictate that, seeing as he’s only just woken up, but there are no more apocalypses, no more looming threats, no John, no demon deals, no Purgatory. 

Instead, there’s Cas, beside him, all soft smiles and messy hair, and Sam and Eileen, who don’t live with them but are close enough and will surely come, and Jody and the girls, and so much more. The monsters are still out there, but for once, it isn’t his job to hunt them all. There's peace, and happiness. 

“Dean?” Cas calls, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright?” 

Deam lets out a laugh, slightly disbelieving, completely happy. “I’m awesome, angel,” he says before reaching up to kiss him properly. 

The rest of the day passes in a whirlwind of activity. Sam and Eileen drop by with Jack in the afternoon a few hours before, Jody, Donna, Claire and Kaia (Alex was held up at the hospital, but she sends them regards and wishes Dean a happy birthday), Kevin, Charlie, Rowena, Garth, Bess and the kids; even Adam, Michael, Gabriel and Amara stop by to say hello before returning to their heavenly duties. 

They have dinner in the backyard, Miracle close-by, talking and laughing without the weight of the world over their shoulders for once. There's pie instead of cake, much to pretty much everyone but Dean’s opinion of how cake is tradition, and they also get him presents. An action figure he wants to pretend is too nerdy but he actually adores from Charlie, a recipe book from Bess, some pins from Claire, a book from Donna, a suit from Rowena that he’ll probably never wear but she insists he desperately needs. 

He'd never say it out loud, but all he could ever wish, hope for, is what he already has. Growing up, Dean had always thought he’d die in a hunt, that that was all he could ever aspire to, and while technically he has died in the job, more than once, now that he’s mostly out of the life, he’s so grateful for it. 

Family life wasn’t for him, that’s what he’d always thought, he’d tried it, only to fail. But somehow, now he has it, perhaps it’s not the most traditional family, monster hunters, angels, the Queen of Hell, werewolves, but it’s awesome anyways. Family doesn’t end in blood, and the Winchesters are proof of it. 

Living past thirty, never mind to forty-two, had been an unthinkable future, but now he can’t begin to fathom life any other way. How could he miss crappy motels, diner food every day, no home other than Baby or Sam, when he has this? Domesticity used to make him roll his eyes, but now it brings him nothing short of happiness. 

There's a smile on his face as he looks around at his family, at Rowena talking to Eileen and Kevin about who knows what, at Sam holding Sam Jr with a glint in his eyes, at Kaia petting Miracle while Claire looks lovingly at her, Jack playing cards with Charlie, Garth and Donna, Jody and Bess rocking Gertie and Cas Jr next to them. 

An arm wraps around his waist gently, followed by a head leaning on his shoulder. Dean puts his own arm over Cas’ shoulders, bringing him closer. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs after a moment. 

Cas lifts his head, tilting it to the side, a motion that shouldn’t bring Dean as much comfort as he does. “For the party?” 

“For everything.” 

Cas’ frown dissolves into a soft smile, and he shifts them so they are facing each other, placing his hand over Dean’s left shoulder; he’s not sure whether Cas does it on purpose, but his touch tingles the place where his mark –now healed- had been, all those years ago. His other hand, though, goes to cradle Dean’s jaw. 

“You have nothing to thank me for more than I you, but you are welcome.” 

Dean surges forward, capturing Cas’ lips in an almost desperate kiss, trying to convey all his love through it. When they part, just for good measure, he also says, almost reverential, “I love you.” 

In return, Cas beams at him, opening his mouth to say it back, but he’s cut by Claire, telling them to get a room, making everyone laugh loudly. 

Dean is tempted to do as she says, they can see themselves out anyway, they’ve all been at the house before, but before he can say so, Cas grabs his hand, tugging it as he directs a look his way that obviously says they cannot leave their friends there, they are the hosts, so diligently, Dean follows him back to the table; they’d have time for themselves later, for now, he’d enjoy his birthday with his family. 


End file.
